


Artemis and his mini-me

by TFALokiwriter



Category: Artemis Fowl (2020), Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer
Genre: Artemis Fowl II is a Good Dad, Canon Compliant, Crying, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Foreshadowing, Gen, Heartwarming, Hugs, Post-Series Pre-Movie, rated teen and up for artemis fowl's swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24746062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TFALokiwriter/pseuds/TFALokiwriter
Summary: Artemis Fowl the 2nd and his mini-me before the events of the film by six months
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Artemis and his mini-me

**Author's Note:**

> I was hit by this idea of Artemis Fowl looking upon his son and seeing a mini-me dressed in a suit like him.

Hannah, Artemis's wife, passed away during family movie night watching Titanic. Her grip slackened out of Artemis's hand leaving him just like everyone had, slowly, quietly, and behind his back when he hadn't known. He isn't slowly aging but time still felt as though it were going slowly. It was so irritating that it felt that way. Time was supposed to feel as though it were passing by quickly just as the days that lead to her untimely demise.

The house didn't feel so alive, bright, and happy as it once used to. The day after that she passed away, Artemis consulted on another case with Trouble -- it's still odd to consider that he married Beechwood Short after Holly died and renamed her daughter after her -- and nabbed the centaur that had stolen a prized necklace.

"Artemis, are you okay?" Beechwood asked. "You weren't being your kind self with that centaur. Foaly is a little concerned about that. Asked me to see how you are."

Foaly was a name that was carried down from centuries as long as Artemis could remember. It was a relatively common name for centaurs, it was a wonder how the centaur species exploded as a species in the last hundreds of years that passed. And somehow, inexplicably, instead of bearing some rough resemblance to monkeys there was striking resemblance to humans in a way that was quite odd and none of them wore tin foil hats. Foaly was a outlier, a original person, a person who did good and left his mark in history in the form of his name.

It was a relatively common name because Foaly was the one who donated a lot of his sperm for the restoration effort of his species for a project that was done underneath Montana and he lead the effort gathering the funds, the technology, and the permission from the Executives to do the task. The original Foaly had died years after the establishment of the colony but hadn't lived to see statues of him and the crew lead by Artemis decorating the cave system of Montana. Some centaurs had returned to the city where the founder of Centaur city had came from.

That mention of Foaly, the name living on, long after he had perished, caused Artemis to smile if only briefly on the issue then it faded as his attention returned to Beechwood becoming somber.

"And Root?" Artemis asked.

"She is concerned on other matters." Beechwood said.

"Figures." Artemis sighed.

Beechwood sat down into the nearest chair.

"So, is everything okay up there?" Beechwood asked. 

Artemis shook his head, folding his arms, quite irked.

"No." Artemis admitted.

"Is it about Hannah?" Beechwood asked.

"She died yesterday." Artemis admitted.

"Yesterday!" Beechwood exclaimed. "That's criminal of you not to be home with your son."

"You need a criminal to catch a criminal." Artemis said. "As Commander Root once said, emotions can really help in catching one."

"Yes . . ." Beechwood agreed, reluctantly. "But this jewelry isn't as important as a grieving son."

"Why do you think I was late? I called the police. She is in the morgue right now. Butler is watching over junior. And also, I returned that fucker and installed the best security system there was. It wasn't suppose to be penetrated! IT WASN'T!"

His fist struck the glass wall and shattered it into pieces.

"D'arvit!"

"Artemis..." Beechwood grew concerned. 

He rubbed his fist then looked toward the Irish fairy.

"I feel for you." Beechwood said. Beechwood approached to Artemis then put a hand on the man's fist and applied magic. "Trouble was that way after she died."

"Unacceptable." Once his hand was healed, Artemis withdrew his hand. "I shouldn't let emotions get the best of me."

"Your son is being overwhelmed with feelings as you are. You _should_ let the feelings get the best of you. You have lost someone very dear to you."

Artemis was quiet.

"I don't want him to wind up like I was at his age." Artemis said. "I do not want him to become my mini me."

Beechwood put his hand on the side of Artemis's shoulder.

"Go." Beechwood said. "I'll do the paperwork from here."

"You're a real friend, Beechwood." Artemis squeezed the fairy's hand then proceeded to walk away.

"So are you." Beechwood said.

* * *

Artemis arrived into the boy's room then shook his son awake. The boy lifted himself up and smiled to see him, his hair messy, then the father sat down along the edge of the bed. Artemis Fowl junior rubbed his eyes quite tired. 

"What's up, dad?"

"We're going to get you a suit for your mother's funeral." Artemis announced.

Junior bolted up.

"Like yours?" his eyes were wide open. 

"Yes," Artemis laughed. "Like mine."

"How do suits feel?"

"Well, comfortable." Artemis reflected. "But, that is just me." he shrugged with a smile. "I am comfortable in formal outfits all the time."

His son laughed.

"I like non-formal clothes." his son replied. 

"I get that. . . ." Artemis frowned, perplexed, before he began the next reply. "Why?"

"Because that is what I am most comfortable in." the younger Artemis Fowl replied. 

"It's like my skin, son. My actual skin. Then be you every day that you can and want to be." He put his hand on his son's shoulder. "You can wear the outfit just _once_ if it turns out that you don't like it."

His son fell forward into Artemis's arms and started to cry.

"I miss mom." his son replied. "She would say something kind of like that." he sniffled. "Always when we went shopping."

Artemis relaxed. History wasn't repeating itself in his son. It wasn't. This time, a person with the name Artemis Fowl had cooperated in trying on hideous articles of clothing that he had once flat out rejected much to his mother's delight and happiness. The older Artemis Fowl returned the hug as he heard the boy sniffling.

"So do I, Artemis." was his reply.

They spent several moments there crying together in the room until it were the younger Artemis who leaned back out of the hug and wiped a tear off. The older Artemis got up from the bed then patted on his shoulder with a smile. He departed the room then closed the door gently behind him. He took out his handkerchief then dabbed at his eyes with it. Artemis cleared his throat then walked through the corridor.

* * *

Artemis took his son to a suit making store a few hours after. Artemis waited in the seat watching as his son's measurements were taken while he were adorned in skinny jeans and the black neck collar less sweater. He smiled, cupping the side of his face, looking on proudly, observing his compliant son standing on the platform allowing the measurements to be done with some fidgeting and slight unconscious moving. Artemis recalled at his age being unable to display a emotion, being cold, being still, composed, and a rigid soldier in appearance.

Artemis recalled very well of seeing his younger self that were stark. His shoulders were loose, relaxed, and not quite as stiff as they were when he was a boy. His once empathy-less eyes were full of kindness, sympathy, and certain sorrow. His son wasn't supposed to get a suit until he were a little older, sixteen, somewhere when he went to his first school dance. He was supposed to be getting his measurements taken quite later. The quite elderly tailor jotted down the measurements on the notepad.

"There and done." Yu said.

"When should the suit be ready, Mr Yu?" Artemis asked.

"It should be ready by tomorrow at the latest, Mr Fowl." Yu returned with a well aging smile.

Artemis smiled; one day, soon, he would smile like that with his son and have the laughter lines to prove that he was aging happily.

"Thank you for taking this order at such short notice." Artemis said as his son walked off the platform.

"It's the least I can do for the most loyal customer. Your grandfather saved this company--in fact," the elderly man held his hand up then closed his fingers against his palm and aimed at the younger man with a smile. "he looked just like you."

"Dad, can I go rolling outside?"

"No, skate out in the basement." Artemis said. "No one will hardly nab a boy there."

"Why would a idiot do that?" the younger Artemis replied. "A one wheel would easily smash their skulls in---"

"Artemis, I told you not to watch the Hostile series." Artemis replied, sharply, as his hand grasped the arm of the chair as he could hear _himself_ coming from the boy.

"Dad!" his son protested.

"What else have you been watching that has been giving you nightmares?"

"Uh, nothing?" His son asked.

"Did you watch Child's Play last night?" Artemis squinted back at him. "Is that why you look so tired."

"Do you got any better movie ideas?" His son wore a poker face.

"Monster Trucks for starters." The boy stared in exasperation and shock at his father. "You're twelve."

"I am a June baby and always will be a baby to you!" replied the younger. "Why can't you accept that I am not a kid anymore?"

"You're eleven, son." Artemis reminded once more. "You're not quite twelve."

"Oh. So that's it." he folded his arms. "Twelve is the magical number?"

"Yes, that _is_ the magical number." Artemis said. "Sometime after your twelfth birthday, I will show you something so incredible that will throw your mother's last year on Earth out of the water. I promise you." the words came out in sincere that it hadn't came out as before for the young boy that knocked down the doubts that the young Artemis Fowl Junior may have had and kept them down. "It'll make going to Disney, rock climbing, surfing, hiking seem tame."

"How long am I grounded?"

Artemis carefully thought it over, _one month was too long._

"One week."

Artemis junior's face faltered.

"What about surfing?"

"You can surf on the internet and troll people on your own time."

"Trolling people?" his features became distraught. "That's mean!"

"Not mean when they were asking for it." Artemis replied.

"Dad, do you do that?"

He puckered his lips at first then grinned, widely, not hiding his play time activities.

"On my spare time targeting people who are attacking LGBTQ, mentally ill people, a child, a artist, a singer or what not when I am not working and asking--" He looked back spotting Dom in the background scanning the area for potential threats then shifted his attention toward his son, quickly, without breaking a sweat. "Dom how you are."

"That's criminal."

"Is it?" Artemis lifted a brow.

"No, but. . . it's mean attacking people for their opinions." His son was too much of a goody-two shoes, perhaps bringing him into his world may be a bad idea and let hm stay on the good side of the law. "It should be criminal."

Artemis smiled back, sweetly, at his son then got up from the chair and joined his side.

"Artemis, there are many things that should be criminal but they aren't." Artemis replied.

"Like what?" his son asked.

"Lacking empathy for another being." Artemis took out a clump of euro then handed it to Yu then his son walked off with Dom following him. Artemis shifted his attention on to the elderly man. "Thank you."

"Thanks a million, Mr Fowl." Yu said. "You make the people of Ireland so proud."

"Speaking of the people of Ireland, can you invite your family over for the funeral?" Artemis asked. "You knew Hannah well. Knew her better than I." He smiled, fondly. "She is your adopted daughter after all."

"Oh yes, I can. They will be more than happy to." Yu replied with a nod. "Irish always stands up for our pride, our family, our nationality, and others."

Artemis smiled.

"So, how are your family doing?" Artemis asked. "I haven't gotten any calls from them."

"They're doin' quite fine asides to the little problem with small creatures stealin' shoes in the family operated store." Yu replied. "I know they're not rats, cats---"

"But?" Artemis lifted a brow.

"I would say they look like fairies." Yu said.

"Fairies. Huh." Artemis's interest was intrigued. "What kind of fairies?"

"Thievin' fairies."

"Where do they do the stealing from?"

"The shoe store is right next door." Yu pointed beside him with his thumb then huffed. "They can't afford a security officer right now and I am unable to sleep on most nights so this compromise could do. . . but they're too fast for me to catch."

The old Irishman lifted a pant leg and displayed a large band-aid that covered his knee. Artemis grimaced at the wound and the calf that had a long scar that had been stitched together neatly healing along quite well. He could imagine the eyebrows being raised at the man's admittance and some questioning and taking his word for it as he never went in to the hospital as often.

"Banged up my leg against a table just chasin' after those trouble makers." Yu finished.

He lifted his attention up toward the fellow Irish man.

"I can help you with that problem." Artemis said. "Tonight."

Yu's face became _radiant_.

* * *

"Dad, aren't you going to give me the Irish blessing?"

"The---what now?"

"The Irish blessing?"

"Did Hannah tell you that before you went to sleep?"

"Yes. It was the sunshine one."

A plan seeded into his mind, a contingency plan for if something happened to himself, as he smiled upon his son.

" _May the road rise up to meet you._ _May the wind be always at your back. May_ _the sun shine warm upon your face;_ _the rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again,_ _may God hold you in the palm of His hand."_

In mere moments, his son was fast asleep and Artemis stood up to his feet. He wiped tears off with his handkerchief as he walked away. Hannah had left that piece behind, a prayer, a silly prayer, her Irish pride seeped in through her legacy even after she was gone. Her legacy was left behind in the form of their shared son. He made his way out then closed the door behind him. He checked on Juliet spotting that she were fast asleep in her bed holding a book in her hand that was dangling off the edge of the bed.

Artemis smiled then departed the room with pride in his heart. He retrieved his suitcase then made his way for the helicopter, closed the door behind him, and were lifted off into the inner area of Ireland. The helicopter lowered then he descended down. He waved the pilot off, opened the door, then carefully walked down the steps without making a sound that had been accomplished with his long career.

Carefully, Artemis assembled the makings of the trap. He assembled rope, tables, hooks, then used a net as his final piece of the trap. He took out of the luggage some of dinner that Dom had made for the family only hours ago. He took out the silverware, the napkins, and a photograph of Hannah. He set the photograph of Hannah along side him propping it against a darkened lamp. Artemis stroked the picture with a finger. The most chaotic and silly woman in existence wasn't there but he could sense that she was there with him.

He slowly ate his meal waiting for the culprits to appear. Eventually, he heard the sound of a table leg being dislodged, squeals, and the sound of boxes being disturbed. Artemis dabbed along his lips with the napkin then closed the box with the food inside. He pressed a button then the room became lit up in light and flipped open his fairy phone, he typed in a number that beeped with each press on the keyboard, then placed it along his ear.

"Hello, is this LEP headquarters?" Artemis asked.

"Yes, sir." replied a young man's voice. Was that the new Foaly?

"Please direct me to Commander Root." Artemis requested.

"Yes, sir." was the reply.

Artemis strolled into the heart of the shoe department finding two fairies and a leprechaun tangled in the improvised net that had a wooden table at the top that acted as a protectionary caution. He had the phone to his ear as he looked upon the entangled trio.

"What the four leaf clover happened, Mayin?"

"Do I look like I know, Naruk?" Mayin asked, irritable.

"It's all your fault, Smaul!" Naruk, the leprechaun accused the first fairy.

"Who is this?"

"Hello, Commander Root."

"Artemis Fowl."

"That's me."

"What trouble did you stir up this time?"

"Not trouble, more like; finding trouble and yanking it out of the bed of soil. I have three thieves in my custody."

"Fairies?"

"And a leprechaun."

"I will get the LEP on it. Did anyone see it?"

"No. But, I can't help but wonder why fairies keep coming up to the surface every so often. And I know it's not my way in."

"I will get the best officer on it. Now, Artemis Fowl, you can leave the clean up to us. We will have a time stop set up shortly. Get out of there."

The call was over, he packed his things, then turned off the lights.

"HEY! HELP! GET US OUT OF HERE!" Mayin cried. "We have lots of gold! We can share! Help!"

"D'arvit!" Naruk swore as Artemis went up the stairs and the door quietly closed behind him. "He is gone!"

"This is all your fault, Naruk." Mayin growled. "You said these shoes would be easy grabs! No one would care! PEOPLE CARE about shoes!"

"I didn't know the tall people cared!" Naruk protested.

* * *

A day after, the uniform is delivered in a package, and Artemis is thankful that the whole pandemic matter was long over with when the social distancing measures were put into place three months ago. He doesn't know how they had managed to avoid becoming non-infected, he does, really, with masks when he went out into public or to the word of the fairies. His son is popping pieces of popcorn into his mouth leaning forward as they are seated side by side engaged on watching Alien.

His eyes shifted toward Dom then he tapped his son on the shoulder.

"Yeah, dad?" replied Artemis junior.

"Your suit is here." Artemis replied.

"Awesome!" His son replied. "I can't wait to see mom's family again."

"It has been too long since we have seen them. A little too long."

The boy got up to his feet and Artemis paused the movie. His son went up the stairs with the uniform in his arms. Artemis recalled how he first reacted to his first suit; slamming the door close behind him loudly and quickly throwing off his overalls that his mother had purchased for him when he was right around four. It was supposed to be worn days later for a funeral but he ended up wearing it for the entire week keeping it clean and well kept.

His son came out of his room welding the suit that was specifically tailor made for him. It was raining outside and everything seemed so gloomy, the gloom on his son's face reminds him of himself more than ever, a little bastard child ready to announce that he had performed a crime without a hint of humor in his voice on wearing the uniform. The boy finger gunned back at Artemis, lowering his glasses, grinning from ear to ear.

"How do I look, dad?"

Artemis folded his arms looking on proudly.

"Wonderful, Artemis." Artemis said. "How does it feel on you?"

The younger Artemis shrugged.

"Not right but it fits."

The older Artemis raised his brows at once.

"What do you mean by not right?" Artemis asked.

"Not my cup of tea, dad."

"What's your cup of tea, son?" Artemis asked.

"Surfing gear, skating protective gear, a shirt and jeans."

Artemis smiled, _already his own person. We did a good job._

"So, are you ready, son?" Artemis asked.

"I am ready!"

His son was thrilled, excited, and happy instead of sorrow, unhappy, and miserable unlike how Artemis went to the funeral of his mother--He had grown up well adjusted. _We did a good job._ And that made him smile.

* * *

Dom took out a large umbrella then opened it guiding the fowls to the helicopter. Juliet sat upfront fast asleep to the pattering of the rain dressed in her best dark funeral clothes. The Fowls sit side by side as Dom sits on the left sporting glasses. Once as Fowl reflected, if it had been Angelina who died, Butler would have sat between him and his father. His father was surrounded by money in all of the world that could be used to treat her delirium but had chosen not to.

Cancer, unlike delirium, was a big ass bitch that was far more difficult to treat than what his mother had. It would have been a gap that stood between them for a little more than a few weeks when his father would come around and apologize for not trying. His father was a master criminal, doing illegal things quite legally, unable to be prosecuted for his crimes and doing everything that he wanted and could do. Even a quite skilled liar for that matter which would put his own words into doubt. He loved his father but that would have sawed their relationship in two and be unable to be taped back together as he knew those words wouldn't be as sincere. Artemis could imagine how terrible her spells would have gotten as she came to Death's front door -- closer than ever -- while he and Butler dealt with her illness first hand if he hadn't discovered the People.

Artemis felt a hand squeeze his hand. His plans are cleared out for the day after Beechwood had gone out of his way to inform Commander Root about the loss, it was quite unexpected to be told flat out; _"You're not going to work on the day of your wife's funeral, Artemis._ " first thing in the morning in a holo-graphic discussion by a relatively old woman who's glare, words, and demeanor was fierce as her namesake. Not every day did Root tell him to have a break after a day of work as a consultant and it was a notable experience.

It was a day that was slated to give him a break in the great lay out of his life. He didn't see the mini-me, all he saw was a person who was going to turn out as someone else and better adjusted for a life above the surface. His decision started to seem that it were in stone. The suit was only going to be worn for formal occasions for the boy -- the fairy world wasn't for him, however, Artemis Junior had to be armed in case his world came for him. 

Artemis smiled with a nod upon his son returning the squeeze with his hand.

The helicopter flew up into the air then on toward the general populace of Ireland for the funeral at the church..

Bruce the goat was munching on hay in front of the house with a leash tied to a pole trimming the lawn.

* * *

"Dad,"

Artemis turned his attention from the changing landscape.

"Yes?"

"When I grow up, I want to be just like you."

Artemis smiled, briefly, upon his son quite fondly.

"Art dealer isn't in your bones."

His son thought it over for a moment.

"I mean being cool and all." Artemis Fowl junior replied. "Being the best person anyone can look up to. Doing your best to be a parent and all. . . I don't know if I could do that two days after losing the love of my life. Keeping yourself together? That is a strong man in my book."

"So, I take it that I am your role model." Artemis replied.

His son nodded, starting to grin, slowly.

"Yeah, you are." 

Artemis smiled.

"You're my role model, too, Artemis." Artemis hugged the boy then the boy returned the gesture. 

"I love you, dad."

Artemis clenched his son by the jacket, squeezing his fingers against the fabric, the words that he wished that he said to Butler but never did and regretted not saying those to him. Those were words that he were unable to say then, words that his father never said to him, words that hadn't been shared with anyone else other than Hannah and to his mother.

His grip on the boy loosened as he started to feel water eyed. Artemis had to be the father that he always wanted, the father that he was trying to be, in shaping the mini-me that he had only long ago wished that he were.

"Son. . . " Artemis replied. "I love you, too."


End file.
